The Demon Wolf
by TheFourthDragonHead
Summary: The Old Gods Champion is born. His destiny is unclear. The only thing that is certain is that he will destroy the White Walkers and become the ruler of all. But will he leave his family for dead or will he fight to protect them. His name is Duncan Stark and he is The Demon Wolf. (Rewrite)
1. chapter 1

**Duncan Stark**

 **The Letter From Jon Arryn**

Ned I am writing this letter to you in response to your request to keep Duncan in the south for another five years and I must warn you that if you keep the boy here any longer it will poison him. You need your son back Ned.

Duncan is not the same boy that came to me from the north. Nor is he the same son you knew.

At the age of ten he is beating men twice his age, I've never seen such a raw talent before, not even Ser Arthur Dayne is capable of the feats Duncan has achieved. I've never seen him be defeated before and it is frightening most of the nobles at court to see him. He plays the game well and too well. He is addicted to power and the fear he inflicts on others. Him and Joffrey go around the city terrorizing other children. Duncan left a boy crippled and broken just last week and the month before that one of the servants daughters had the left side of her face bruised and mutilated by someone unknown but everyone knows it was Duncan.

The worst of my fears is that he may be plotting against the royal family themselves. The smiles and laughs he shares with Joffrey are all fake and a mummers act. Duncan has even caught the princesses eyes, Myrcella. He flatters her irregularly and gives her false assumptions that he is in love with her. There is talk of a marriage between the two to be announced with your approval and I must implore you not to accept.

Please Ned take back your boy so he may be cultivated by the north once more and be rid of the venom of this snake pit.

Jon Arryn.

Blood red eyes looked at the letter in his hand. The letter he had stolen from the rookery last night. Duncan's feet were up on his desk and he was leaning in his chair. Duncan smirked at the stolen letter from Jon Arryn. The man he had been fostered with for the last six years of his life. Ever since he had broken his brother's nose and humiliated him.

Duncan's father sent him away to foster with Jon Arryn as punishment but it was a blessing in disguise. During the journey to King's Landing all Duncan wanted was to turn back and go home to Winterfell. But the moment Duncan came here to King's Landing and saw the Iron Throne, the sheep that call themselves lions that rule it he knew what he really wanted.

He wanted all to bow before him. To kneel and call him King of everything. No crime would happen under his just and sovereign rule, no corruption, no petty rivalries between houses, no one would starve, there would be no more war if there was no more land to conquer. If it was all under one banner. His banner.

It was his dream and reality all in one. Every time he stepped into the training yard it's like he willed himself to be unbeaten, every time he played civasse it was like he willed himself to win, every time he saw a flaw in the King's rule he willed himself to mentally correct it. The world seemed to bend to his will, because he was no man, no, he was a force of nature, a demon. The Demon Wolf.

Duncan put the letter over the small glowing flame of the candle that sat on his desk and watched the paper take light. He watched the growing violent intensity of the paper's flame take shape and turn whatever plan Jon Arryn had for him to return north into ash. Once the flame burnt out and the thing that had once been ink and paper was scattered to the winds he forged a new letter. One that sang a very different song than the one Jon Arryn had tried singing.

He knew he couldn't keep up this act for long. And soon Jon Arryn will have to be dealt with. Permanently.

(A/N) Jesus Christ I've made like five different drafts for this new version and everyone of them didn't pan out but I love this one. It has taken all my effort away from Silver Dragon Sorry. Don't worry I'll get to updates for that story soon. Basically Duncan gets sent to King's Landing to foster with Jon Arryn instead of the Martells. Duncan makes it there but he soon finds himself obsessed with being King of everything and the intoxication of power. Duncan will be far more cunning and cruel. Also assume nothing about Duncan. He will either condemn his family or save it.

Reviews please ]


	2. Chapter 2

Jon Arryn

Five Years Later

To say that Jon Arryn was anxious was an understatement. He was terrified. Not for himself but for everyone he loves, his wife, his son, his foster son King Robert, and his newer foster son Duncan Stark. He has found secrets that could have him on a spike, everyone on the spike actually. He needs to tread lightly, he needs to play this game carefully otherwise it means death will follow in his enemy's wake. Queen Cersei must have surely found out by now where he has been going and who he has been talking to.

Jon Arryn speed walked down the quiet halls of the Red Keep toward the room where Duncan sleeps. At first Jon wanted to rid the boy of this city when Duncan was younger then he wanted rid the city of Duncan but now none of them have a choice. Duncan was fifteen he's never even met half his siblings and the only memories he has of Winterfell are from a time long before he could fully remember. Although Jon Arryn knew the boy despised him and plotted against him he still loved the boy as much as his own and he would be damned if he allowed one of Ned's boys to fall because of his mistakes.

Jon Arryn nervously knocked on the door and looked around to check if anyone had followed him. The halls were quiet and no one was in sight but that didn't mean that no one was within ear shot. The door opened and Duncan was there looking every bit like Ned did in those days he spent fostering in the Eyrie besides the obvious differences like the Blood red irises that made Duncan so popular and the dark raven black hair. Not to mention but Duncan was taller and far more muscular than Ned was in those days, but his face was practically identical to a young Ned.

"Lord Arryn?" Duncan was surprised to see Jon Arryn here, the two steered clear of each other ever since Duncan had turned twelve. Maybe he's trying to get something out you, careful Duncan. But Jon Arryn's face was plastered with dread it took a lot to scare Jon Arryn and it took a lot for him to actually show it.

"Pack your things." Jon Arryn said as he entered Duncan's room.

Duncan was dumbstruck. "What?!"

"Do not Argue with me!" Jon Arryn hastily went Duncans desk and took a pen and parchment and began to write frantically. "My death will come soon my boy hopefully I am not to late save King Robert and I will not allow you to stay here and die with me for I fear that if they suspect me then they will likely come for you." Jon Arryn kept writing and writing until the pen broke in his hand.

"Who are _they_ , Lord Arryn." Dunan asked as Jon Arryn seemed to find another pen and began writing again. "Who in the seven hells are coming after you and the King?"

"I must not tell you, not here." Jon Arryn folded the parchment he wrote on and rolled it up. He flattened the rolled parchment and pulled a lit candle off the desk and tilted it so the hot wax poured out. The hot wax was beginning to dry and Jon Arryn pulled a pendant off from around his neck which held the sigil of the moon and falcon of Arryn and pressed it onto the wax making it an improvised seal. "If I do fall before I tell the King then you must see to it that your father sees this letter."

Duncan reached out and held the letter in his hand. He was reminded of the time when he sabotaged Jon Arryn's letters and he was sure the old man knew it so why did he trust him so? He had beaten other boys to a pulp because Joffrey found it amusing, he played the princesses feelings cause of far greater goals, he's played everyone more times than he can count. "Why me?"

"Because I believe you can become your father's son." Duncans serious face that was practically plastered onto his skull feigned for once, for a split second Jon Arryn saw Ned so full of potential to be great and potential to be a man of honor... but then Duncan returned into view. The boy full of rebellion in his red eyes and uncaring stoicness.

"I am Duncan Stark I will not make you or anyone else any promises Lord Arryn." Duncan took the letter in his hands and held it firmly. "I will go back to the north but that letter may possibly never reach my Lord father's hands, do you understand?"

Jon Arryn gave a sad smile and patted Duncan on the shoulder. "You will become a great warrior one day Duncan but a warrior has a heart, and one day you will find yours whether that be now or years from today, you will." Duncan turned away from him and began to pack his things. "A ship will wait for you at the docks. It will take you to Whiteharbor from there your fathers bannermen will escort you home. Goodbye." Jon Arryn left the boy. One day he will learn that family is more important than power, until then he will lose more and more of himself in his own campaign.

(A/N) fucking hell im lazy, that took forever for me to think of, I hate starting a story with so many directions, redemption or damnation. Don't worry more chapters will come to this story and the silver dragon it's just school is fucking my shit up right now. Also review and give me your opinion on a crossover between the two characters, the unbeatable Demon Wolf, Duncan Stark against the shapshifting dragon, Aerion Targaryen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Duncan Stark**

 **A week later**

A lone warrior on a mission home, atop a black warhorse, with a letter that could change the fate of the world. The sentence sounded like a story told by mothers to their children over a warm fire while a storm raged outside. But it was true, Duncan had been riding for two nights since he left White Harbor and dismissed the Manderley men-at-arms so he could travel alone. Of course he had stayed a night in White Harbor to sample the local whore house. Duncan had forgotten how beautiful the land was here, the trees stood tall and proud, the foliage thick and dangerous, the animals large and formidable. Already he had passed around two dozen moose about twice the size of a man when he passed Hornwood. At least the first men had killed all the Direwolf that had once called the Wolf's wood home, if not then I might be in danger.

The sun was high in the sky, probably noon. He would reach Winterfell before nightfall if he didn't have any interruption. Duncan inhaled and exhaled, basking in the clear brisk air. The smell of nature and cold air. None of the steaming shit in King's Landing where the roads are practically made of shit. If the king were to displease his subjects then the commoners would have an unlimited supply of dung and mud to throw at him. _I'll have to fix that when I am King._

Duncan continued for hours more until after finally crossing the lands of house Cerwyn he made it to Winterfell and saw the great Jewel of the north. If Duncan hadn't steeled himself he would have cried. Just as he remembered from his early childhood memories, the grey castle was tall, beautiful and strong. It was hard to imagine that after all this time such beauty could last.

As he approached Wintertown he noticed the settlement that clung to Winterfell's walls had grown slightly since his youth, new faces were present as he passed. More often then not people would stop and look at the handsome raven haired boy on horseback in awe as they realized the second son of Eddard Stark had returned.

The gates of Winterfell were as formidable as the castle itself with iron wood logs as the main door and the iron chains that opened and secured it. The guards men atop the gate looked down in confusion at the cloaked figure but as soon as Duncan looked up to scowl they soon remembered the ruby red eyes. "Duncan has returned! Open the gates!" A guards men shouted.

The wood creaked open slowly with a large eerie groan. And Duncan felt himself hitch as he finally realized after eleven years of being gone he was finally home. And there to greet him was his family and other members of the household such as servants guards and anyone who worked in the castle. Standing in a line from left to right was his father Ned Stark, his mother Catelyn Stark, his older brother Robb, his oldest sister Sansa, a small girl with dark raven locks and a long face who he presumed to be his youngest sister Arya, two boys with auburn hair and crystal blue eyes who he presumed to be his ten year old brother Brandon and his youngest brother Rickon who seemed to be little more than a toddler.

His father and mother had big stupid grins on their faces as they met Duncan's uncaring red eyes. Duncan trotted his horse around the host of his family and servants the like. He spotted his favorite brother Jon Snow in the back next a light brown haired man who seemed to be close their age probably Theon Greyjoy. _My brother is placed next to the hostage. He's a Stark bastard not a commoner he deserves to be at least close to the front not sulking in the back._

As he reached the front again he noticed Robb's annoyed demeanor and simply smirked to himself. "I had hoped that your nose would of healed straight but it seems that my hopes were not as strong as my fist." Duncan said noticing the slight crookedness to Robb's nose from when Duncan had broken it. Some of the guards seemed to chuckle but most stifled their laughs.

Robb's face changed from annoyed to angry and Catelyn noticed. "Duncan please come down from your horse and meet your siblings civilly."

Duncan turned to her and rolled his ruby red eyes, getting off of his black horse and handing it off to a stable boy. He looked at his younger siblings with a scowl. "I had hoped more would look like Starks but it seems that the southern blood runs strong in them just like you Robb." Sansa seemed to feign at that remark, Bran and Rickon seemed confused but the reaction Duncan had wanted was Robb's.

His hands seemed to be clenched so tightly it was as if he was trying to chocke the life out of someone. "Duncan that is enough!" His father said with authority. Duncan snickered at Robb and simply walked past them all toward the castle entrance. "Where are you going?" He heard his father asked.

"I have been sailing and riding for near a week without rest." He stopped at the entrance and turned to look his father in the eyes. "I wish to rest." Duncan gave a cocky bow as sign of his leave and made his way for his old room and if his memory serves him well his room was just past Robb's near the north side of the castle. When he found his old room he noticed that his old bed was gone and a much larger one was put in its place. Other than that it was the same as he remembered with a fireplace in the center of the wall and all his old stuff cluttered about the place.

He used the fresh logs next to the small hearth to light the fire and stoked it to keep it healthy and watched intently as the fire cracked the wood and burned it brightly. Duncan reach into his tunic and found the letter Jon Arryn had written for his father's eyes only. Duncan broke the seal on the paper and read the letter. His eyes scanned every sentence and jotted down every word in his mind. It hadn't occurred to him what he had just read until a second later

Duncan's blood red eyes widened in pure disbelief. Duncan quickly tossed the letter into the fires and backed away as if he was afraid of the ashes billowed. "Joffrey Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon, and Tommen Baratheon are bastards." Duncan's stomach felt sick as he realized who they were fathered by. Their uncle Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, was their father. They were bastards born of incest between twins. Slowly Duncan's bewildered face turned into that of sick smile. "They have no to claim the throne. An obstacle that seemed near impossible for me to remove without cause has given me the greatest advantage I could have."

Then he remembered Lord Arryn's speech about becoming his father's son. "Sorry Lord Arryn but I did warn you. I am the Demon Wolf and I will rule everything no matter the cost."


	4. Chapter 4

Winterfell was many things, beautiful, strong, ancient, and mysterious. One thing it wasn't was very exciting, no one would ever tell you was how dull it could be after you've settled. Two days after his arrival he felt more bored then ever before. It had been damn near two weeks since his last spar and his blood boiled for conflict. That's why now he was actively going out of his way to find Robb. And start something.

Duncan found Robb breaking his fast in the great hall with Theon Greyjoy and Jon. Duncan walked confidently and smugly up to their table. Theon was the first to notice him and regarded with as much smug as Duncan had. "Look who it is boys the exiled Direwolf finally coming out of his hole."

Duncan simply scowled. "Look who it is the landlocked Kraken." Duncan faked a curious look and asked. "Are these your Salt Wives?" He said gesturing to Jon and Robb. Theon's smirk faded and he got up from his seat hoping to intimidate Duncan but if he was intimidated he did not show it. Robb saw Theon's hand clench and stood as did Jon incase either one of them tried a swing. Duncan leant forward and whispered to Theon. "Sluggish, ugly and fat. That's what a Kraken looks like on land." Theon's eyes bulged and his fist pulled back to throw a punch at Duncan but Robb and Jon quickly pulled him away.

"NOT HERE!" Robb argued to Theon as he tried fighting Jon and Robb's hold on him.

"Aye. Not here." Duncan said smiling at his ability to anger Theon.

Theon pushed Jon and Robb off of him after he seemed to have calm down. "Why not?! Think that I'll ruin that handsome face?!"

"I'm flattered you think I'm handsome but no." Duncan sighed and started walking off to the direction of the train yard of Winterfell. "We're going to settle this like men not children."

Theon looked to Robb and Jon smirking obviously confident in his sword training. "Come on boys. This should be over quickly."

And it was over quickly. Theon fell flat on his back as blood poured out from his nose. He clutched his stomach in pain and rolled from side to side trying to find the air in his lungs. Duncan kicked his sword away from him and laughed maniacally. "Honestly I might have been half right about the whole thing about the Kraken thing." Duncan lifted Theon by his collar to come face to face with him and said. "You may not be fat but you are ugly and sluggish." The duel between the two boys had attracted quite the crowd of Stark Men At Arms. Nearly thirty men were in a crowd watching along with Robb and Jon.

"That's enough Duncan!" Robb yelled at him stepping forward to help Theon up.

"Perhaps you care to try brother?" Duncan said. Robb pulled Theon to his feet and helped limp his way to one of the many Men At Arms that was watching the fight between Theon and Duncan.

Robb turned around to scowl at Duncan, stepping onto the yard he picked up Theon's sword. Duncan's sick smile grew wide and malicious. "Are we fighting to see who gets first hit?"

"Whoever gets first hit." Duncan agreed and gave a short bow. Robb immediately got into a stance and began to slowly methodically move around Duncan who simply stood there waiting, he didn't even have his sword raised up.

"Come on brother are you going to make me strike first?" Robb didn't say anything just kept his sword pointed at Duncan. Duncan rolled his eyes and cracked his neck from side to side. "Very well I was hoping to get some sort of rush out of all this but it seems you want me to end it here." And quick as a falling star and as accurate as a veteran marksmen Duncan stabbed forward and hit Robb dead in the chest making Robb fly five feet backward into the crowd landing with a heavy thud. If it wasn't for the padding and the sword being blunted then he would be impaled on Duncan's sword right now. No one had ever seen such a strike so quick and powerful before. Duncan remained there posed with his sword pointed at where Robb had been hit.

Robb was sure his chest would be bruised for a moon as he felt the air return to his lungs and heavy pain in his chest. Robb was pulled to his feet by the Men At Arms and saw Duncan standing there with that immensely annoying smirk of his. "Feeling light on your feet brother?" Duncan asked.

If it wasn't for the intense pain he felt in his chest then he would of tried punching Duncan across his jaw. "Get me to the maester." Robb said to the men at arms holding him up averting his eyes from Duncan.

Duncan's smirk turned into a malicious grin as watched Robb's sulking form walk away with at least two of the men helping him. "Robb won't be happy Duncan." Jon said appearing at his side also watch Robb. "He may very well never forgive you for the strife you've been causing him."

Duncan simply chuckled and brought his sword to his shoulder. "Good then he will never forget." He said walking away with confidence.

Duncan gave his sword and padding back to the armory but as he put the thick leather back on the rack he heard a loud clang and the sound of a lot of metal hitting the ground. He turned around to see Arya standing over a pile of knocked over tourney swords. It seemed she had been trying to sneak a sword out but had failed to do it carefully. "I very much doubt that mother would appreciate you being here in the armory. Arra."

"It's Arya you dimwit!" She huffed in frustration. "I was going to put them back."

"Aye, I'm sure." Duncan leaned down to her height which was for him down to a squat. "Shouldn't little ladies be taking there needle lesson and harping on about handsome knights?"

Arya's face turned red and she reeled her hand back to slap him but Duncan quickly caught it. "I AM NOT A LADY!"

"The little lady going to cry?" Duncan asked faking a pouty face. She huffed in frustration and tried pulling her hand out of Duncan's but his grip on her hand was like an iron shackle. He simply laughed at her efforts and smiled maliciously. "Honestly Arya I expected better from-"

Duncan was quickly cut off as Arya's free hand slapped him. "How's that?!" Duncan's face quickly shown obvious anger as his red eyes blazed with fury.

Duncan brought his hand up and Arya was sure that he was going to strike her badly but then he simply patted her on the shoulder. "Not bad Arya." Then he violently grabbed her face and made it so she was staring up at him. "But don't take my leniency for softness. I have little patience for you or anyone."

He pushed Arya away and she stumbled and fell on her bum. "Why are you so hateful?!" She asked getting up from the floor and running away. It was a rhetorical question but Duncan pondered he words. Why was he so hateful?

He simply chuckled and left the armory. I like Arya. She's very free willed, almost like my self. Almost.

Duncan hadn't desired to spend all day walking around Winterfell all bloody day but it seemed that's what he was doomed to do. Only when he reached the God's Wood did he actually sit for a moment. The great large white oak of the wierwood tree came into view and the blood red leaves sent an unfamiliar chill down Duncan's spine. The face on the tree made him uneasy and paranoid as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Every time the wind moved the leaves off the ground or if there a chirp from a bird he snapped his neck to the noise. Finally he felt at ease with the comfortable ambient silence of it all and sat down in front of the pale white Wierwood.

Duncan stared into the bleeding eyes of the oak and felt something inside of him stir the more he stared into them. His blood was boiling now and his heart was ready to burst out of his chest. "Demon Wolf" an unholy voice said in the quietest whisper.

Duncan fell back from where he sat, he reached for his dagger that was hidden in his boot and unsheathed it quickly as he came to his feet. "Jon?! Robb?! Theon?!" Duncan called out but received no reply. "Whoever it is I'll count to three!" Duncan didn't have an actual plan once he reach three but if it was a child prancing him they would come running. "One!" Nothing. "Two!" The Red leaves moved slightly in the wind making Duncan turn to the branches. "Three…." Nothing again.

Then quick as lightning a pale white root reaches out and wrapped around the wrist holding the dagger. "AAAH!" It tightened in a grip like steel and pulled him to the ground in front of the Wierwood tree. "ARGH!" Then the root tightened again and Duncan's eyes rolled to the back of his head but it didn't hurt anymore. In fact Duncan couldn't feel anything at all. Everything was dark.

The King dies. The father dies. A son full of regret becomes his father's son. A brother becomes a king in a war of five. Two great victories are won. A field is colored in red. A wedding is draped in red. The sea is splashed in red. A red castle drenched is in red. The snow mixed is with red. Then the world is covered in red.

(A/N) holy fuck bro I'm so bad at keeping up with these chapters. That last part is Duncan seeing the future but it isn't like the way Bran can do it. Bran can just do it whenever he wants but Duncan is just like…. Susceptible I guess to it. The old gods are just trying to give Duncan a quick heads up. And Duncan is what I like to call a Redseer. It's my own little creation. Basically a redseerer is an entity created by the old gods as a tool against the great other aka just night king repellent. Abilities are kinda like a greenseer but different. Greenseers are really good at the whole seeing the future stuff but aren't as good with the whole physical stuff.

Redseerers have increased speed, healing (not like wolverine status more like just recovery wise), sight, smell, and intelligence. Along with the abilities to-. No bad! Sorry almost spoiled his really cool abilities. P.s. my silver dragon story is still active I just need to figure where the hell I wanna take it. And what do you think about having one big story later on with Duncan and Aerion and a bunch of other oc's


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